


lonely alone

by spidye



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Five Stages of Grief, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Parent Death, Pre-Kingsman: The Secret Service, in which both michelle and lee are dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-28 00:56:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15696876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spidye/pseuds/spidye
Summary: When Harry's given custody of a five-year-old Eggsy, he realizes just how empty his life has been.





	lonely alone

**Author's Note:**

> i really wanted to explore the idea of harry being responsible for eggsy after lee dies in 1997, so here's.., uh, this thing, whatever it is. an AU where michelle dies before lee does. chapter titles are from chelsea cutler's album, sleeping with roses. 
> 
> cw for parent death, obscenities, and light alcoholism but probably nothing else. this fic is about developing a healthy parental relationship. there's absolutely NO implication of hartwin or incest in this fic so please for the love of god don't try it. updates infrequently bc i'm more focused on [my main work.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15067655/chapters/34932749) i'm @spideling on twitter!

Things were different before Lee Unwin. Perhaps the difference  _ after _ Lee is more important, but for now, we’ll talk about the before and the during, because those always make the after that much more difficult.

Harry Hart always considered himself a fairly free man, for a spy. He drank what he wanted, slept with who he liked, killed who he needed to. Between missions, he was free to travel and study as he so desired; just so long as he got the job done when he needed to. And he always did —  _ always _ . Without fail, every time, it was a newspaper on the wall, a congratulation from Arthur, and a new case within two weeks. It was certainly better than the three years he spent in the army, watching men come back in shreds, tasked to fix them up enough to send them right back out again. Kingsman kept him occupied, and once he’d settled into it, he quite liked his routine.

And then Lancelot died, and Harry could feel his life take a turn. He’s not sure what drew him to Lee for the candidate selection process. He was different than every candidate in the room, in more ways than one. He was much older than most recruits, a Marine, and a single father. His wife had died nearly a year ago in an accident that Lee never elaborated on. The ghost of her seemed to stand by Lee’s side, and Harry couldn’t help but notice her — he said hello often, and she just smiled, as if to say,  _ Look after him, won’t you? _

Lee carried himself with his chin up and his eyes sharp, like he was actually  _ looking _ at the world, not just existing in it. He wasn’t there to impress anyone else — he was there to get through the training. That stood out to Harry. He carried a great deal of responsibility evenly across his shoulders; not as a burden, but as a privilege.  _ That _ was Kingsman material. That was what kept the secret service operating.

Harry hadn’t met Lee’s son, and Lee said he wanted to keep it that way. The Kingsman training process happened to fall during a summer camp, so Eggsy, who was just five years old at the time, was well taken care of while Lee went from soldier to agent. Maybe more importantly, he went from recruit, to friend, to something more than either of those. Harry didn’t date. He never found himself in love, never wanted more than a good fuck every now and then, but, as we saw before: Lee was different. From a few stolen glances to a breathless first kiss, the two developed a connection out of sight of the rest of their fellow agents. Maybe it was nothing, but maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it  _ was _ something. 

Training your recruit outside of Merlin’s rigorous program was discouraged, but Harry did it anyway. Sleeping with another agent was taboo, but Harry woke up next to Lee more than once. Developing a priority that distracted from your duties was strictly forbidden, but Harry found himself thinking less of his mission and more of who was waiting for him at HQ when he was finished. Harry was content to be a rebound — he didn’t really mind if it never became anything more. He was happy with what he had, and so was Lee. A secret tastes best when shared behind closed doors, and it made Harry’s days just a bit brighter. To the best of his ability, Harry didn’t allow it to distract from his missions.

But when Lee dove for the grenade, Harry thought nothing of his mission. He thought only of what he just lost.

And now we come to the  _ after _ , beginning with the immediate; Lee’s body, limp and hollowed out from the explosion, growing cold with every second. The flight home, with Harry clutching Lee’s dogtags in a bloody fist. The taste of soot and grief in Harry's mouth, which can't seem to form the words to describe what Lee did. When they arrive back at HQ, Harry doesn’t go home. He stays, drinking whatever alcohol he can lay his hands on, until he can’t feel anything but the ache in his chest. Lee won’t be waiting for him in his room, so Harry vomits in the shop's bathroom for an hour. In the morning, Merlin finds Harry in the founder’s room, staring at a pink and gold medal, expression vacant and cold.

With only one candidate left alive, recruitment was over. The pain in Harry’s chest never fades. Grief has a funny way of re-numbing parts of you that you didn’t know were awake. Really, Harry wanted nothing more than a month-long mission, where he could bury his heartache in adrenaline and whiskey, but he has things to take care of. He’ll have to throw Lee’s clothes out. Burn them, maybe, if he wanted to avoid the temptation of stealing them back out of the dumpster. He’d have to arrange Lee’s finances to go to his son, sell his apartment, go to his funeral. This was the first death ever to happen during recruitment, and the responsibilities fell on Harry. Understandably, it was a bit of a surprise to find a mission file on his desk, but when Harry opened it, his heart sank.

Lee wanted  _ him _ to look after his son. 

There were no distant relatives, no aunts or uncles, nobody else to take care of Eggsy. And no amount of protest would convince Merlin to take Harry’s side, either. Lee’s will was clear:  _ Look after him for six months. Make sure he’s going to be okay. _ He wonders how in the hell he’s going to do that when he’s not even sure if  _ he’s _ okay. Arthur immediately put Harry on reserve; he wouldn’t have any missions for six months unless every single agent was occupied. He’d still come in to HQ to assist in training and tech, but he wouldn’t be on the field. Harry’s ache of grief had now befriended a dull feeling of dread that rested in the pit of his stomach. 

It took a day to buy the proper furniture for Eggsy and arrange his room. Harry had no idea what the boy would like, so he got things that were relatively plain. It wasn’t forever. He’d need to sell them again after six months. He didn’t paint the room, which was empty, with a small, glass cupula in the middle of the arched ceiling, and large picture windows all around. He could have put Eggsy in the guest room, but it was a bit dreary, and had too many fragile decorations for a five year old to be around. The top floor seemed better, anyway. He had no use for it.

Harry didn’t invest in any toys. That would be something they could do together, and if he bought them before Eggsy arrived, he was sure that Mr. Pickle would get into them and tear them to shreds. He didn’t know how to entertain a child for a day, much less six months. What in the  _hell_ was Lee thinking when he tasked Harry with this? He's not a father. Clearly, he wasn't even responsible enough to be either a mentor or a lover. He couldn't keep Lee safe, but now he's supposed to care for a  _child._

Now, as he waits to pick Eggsy up, Harry can feel his life take another turn, and he feels anything but prepared for it.


End file.
